Across the Doorsill
by hangthesilver
Summary: I would love to kiss you, but the price of kissing is your life. Akuroku, next life, Halloween-ish fic.


**Title:** Across the Doorsill  
**Rating:** K+  
**Word Count:** 5, 052  
Warnings: language, and that's all folks.  
**Summary:** I would love to kiss you, but the price of kissing is your life. Akuroku, next life.  
**Author's Notes:** The title comes from the poem _Spring Giddiness_, by Rumi.

In September my friends and I went on a roadtrip through Texas. We stopped in Austin and had time to kill, and so we ate at this brilliant little Korean place that was kitschy, urban, and just awesome. All the chairs had little snippets of poems or songs written on them, and I saw a certain clip on one of them (actual picture is on my LJ posting of this if you want to look). I wrote the end of this the next night, and finished it this week. A bit late, but happy Halloween.

As usual, concrit is _always_ welcomed.

* * *

I would love to kiss you.  
_The price of kissing is your life. _  
Now my loving is running toward my life shouting,  
_What a bargain, let's buy it. _

___  
_

The boy—because if anyone called him any differently, they were probably smoking something crystal—was turned away when they arrived, and Axel wondered if he should throw one of the candies in his pocket, the butterscotch old man candy they'd gotten from the booth down the left and one row over. You probably couldn't expect more from someone trying to hawk homemade bracelets. It just didn't flow that way.

"I think he's embarrassed," Kairi said, in a high stage whisper, and the back of the boy straightened, tensed a little, but remained facing away from them.

"He's the one on this booth," Axel said crossly, tapping his foot impatiently, partially because he was late for work, and partially because he was really very displeased about what was about to transpire. There were about twenty things on a list of about three million he could be doing at the moment, and what was about to happen wasn't one of them. He fisted the money in his pocket, thought about tossing it on the ground and then hoping the cool breeze floated it away, and that way he could lie and say he hadn't had any money. But it would be a waste, and they'd drag him back here tomorrow, and he'd be out twenty bucks and oh, it didn't matter.

"You have the camera?" he asked the girl, a little miserably.

"Stop moping," Kairi said, tersely, and he could tell she wasn't pleased either. "That was a stupid thing to bet."

"I didn't think I'd actually lose."

"I can see that. Just get it over with. And then we can go to work. Which, by the way, you're already late."

"What? I couldn't hear you over the sound of an immature five year old somewhere in the general vicinity."

"You're so funny."

"I am. You don't believe me?"

"I've known you your entire life. I never believe you."

"Now I'm just shocked and appalled. How can you not—"

"Chickening out?"

They both turned to see that Demyx had arrived, all pearly white teeth and gel slicked hair and a Cheshire grin the size of Maryland. Axel thought about knocking it off, thought about knocking the camera from Kairi's hand and taking a flying leap at the boy and then in turn, taking a flying leap at Demyx, only that flying leap would go fists first, not mouth first, and then morbidly thought about the world in general and how life was never fair. It wasn't such a stretch.

"I am the bravest soul you ever met," Axel said solemnly.

"So come on. I'll even pay. Here."

And Demyx strolled up to the rickety table, rapped his knuckles against it sharply, and the boy finally turned away from the back of the booth with what looked like a sigh that could probably move sails, some weary look on his face. Axel tried to smile encouragingly, at the too blue eyes and the hair spiked up in a dozen different directions, but the kid was looking at Demyx, not even paying attention to him.

"We'd like to procure your services," Demyx said, with the wide, wide grin again, and Axel sighed and went forward, shoving Demyx out of the way.

"Listen, I lost a bet, I need to kiss you, here." He handed over the cash, and the kid held out his palm seemingly automatically. He seemed very demurred, extremely flighty. He probably got this a lot, Axel realized with a sinking feeling. Who in their right mind put a boy in a kissing booth? The kid looked up at Axel finally and there _was_ depth in that crystalline surface, something probably a little deeper than Axel had first thought.

A moment later he was beckoning Axel around the table, behind the merry display of orange and black balloons. Axel ran a hand through his hair, looked around, but the pathway hadn't gotten any less crowded, and there was no getting out of it. Demyx was practically rocking on his heels back and forth in excitement, a jeering look on his face, and Kairi had inched forward, holding her camera up a little, but trying not to scare the kid. Pictures might not be allowed or whatever. And Demyx had demanded proof for the rest of their lives.

This is probably what people do when walking to death row, Axel thought, taking skipping sort of steps, haltingly and hesitant. Maybe if he refused to be dragged he'd get out of this. Of course, Demyx might never let him live it down. Which, at first thought, wasn't such a bad idea.

But Axel had dignity. Or at least, he did for the moment.

He turned behind the table, came to stand next to the kid, who was so much shorter. Demyx seemed to have just realized the height difference, because he gave a little delighted noise, and leaned forward on the table. Axel tried to block him out.

The kid was looking up at him impassively, not making a movement, and Axel thought he ought to be at least making an effort to make this as painless as possible. It was his fault, Axel seized on, it was all his fault, why would he volunteer at a kissing booth? Or let himself be dragged into it? These were girl things, not guy things, and he had probably made a fool out of himself like seventy four times already. Seriously. This was all his fault.

"So uh.." he trailed off, hoping something would happen.

Still those same cool, beyond the depth eyes.

"I'm Axel," he volunteered stupidly. What the hell? Kiss and run, kiss and run, that was all this was, a kiss and run. It was so improper though. A kiss and run. Axel never even used the kissing booth when there were girls in it. Whose idea had this been? Had he suggested it as a stake? Probably not. He hadn't even known of its existence. He had agreed though. All the blame could still be hefted onto this boy here though. All of it. Even Demyx's blame.

There wasn't a response from the kid, just another audible sigh, which ticked Axel off, like a billion and three times. He was practically begging for help, some sort of guide, and this kid was just standing there looking bored and impatient. He wasn't the only one; Demyx was rapping his knuckles against the table again, faster and faster. Kairi was still standing there with the camera, looking torn between amusement and pain.

"Oh fine, if you're not going to say anything," Axel sighed, and bent down and pressed his lips against the other boy's and--

_It was like falling in front of a car, maybe, in traffic, in the street and getting trampled, crushed, broken, strangled_, goddamn _smashed_--

Demyx was catcalling, there was wind in his ears, and Axel pulled back like some force field propelled him, and his eyes flew open, to see the kid staggering away, eyes opened wide in shock.

"How—" he said, sputtering, and Axel dimly realized it was the first time he had heard him speak. "What did you—"

"Brilliant!" Demyx was loud and didn't even seem to notice that Axel had his eyes locked on the kid, and the kid was staring back at him just as intently. "I'm keeping this forever."  
He was probably referring to the picture on Kairi's camera, Axel realized dimly, probably, but who the fuck cared, _this kid_--

"We're going to be late for work Axel!"

Kairi's voice rang into his head like a bell through the water, and Axel broke his eyes away and looked over, to where some kids stood snickering, and where Kairi was motioning frantically with her hands while Demyx was grinning at the face of the camera.

"Yea, okay," he said, mostly to himself, and walked back out from behind the table.

The kid didn't say anything else, and neither did any of them as they walked away, Demyx still chortling and punching Axel in the shoulder. He didn't look back, and there was sand in his brain, and in the trees, he could see the leaves, all brown with green, stems curled and edges bronzed with fall sunlight, every individual one, strung out like a diamond necklace nestled on royalty. All strung out and perfect, and it wasn't until much later, at about midnight after he had changed out of his work uniform and pulled his jeans back on, that he had the presence of mind to ask Kairi how long the festival was going to be running.

__

They were like a second skin, or at least Demyx was, but maybe it was more accurate to call him a clinging fungus, or maybe one of those birds who sat on hippos and ate their back lice, but whatever it was, they were hard to get rid of, but he finally managed in the afternoon.

The attendant seemed surprised to see him back so soon, gave him a questioning look, and Axel wondered how the fuck he had even remembered Axel had been here yesterday. Oh well. Couldn't discredit the old. The picture was clutched in his hand, a folded square, its own edges bent and torn, the creases good and true. He'd unfolded it and refolded it about fourteen times on the walk from his car to the entrance, and that didn't count the times he'd done it since printing it out last night.

There was a map attached to the program he had in the other pocket, but he didn't need it. It was to the left, past the popcorn and the kids running around with cotton candy in their hair and mothers dashing after them, packaged goldfish and pumpkin bags swaying from their arms. Sweet, he thought, this was all too sweet. The sun was hazy, sky waxy, and the grass was dying underneath his feet.

The kid was sitting in the chair at the back of the booth when Axel finally reached it, looking just as bored as when Axel had left the day previous. The hair was still curled up and spiked, those eyes were still red rimmed and blue and tired and full of everything but zest for whatever life he was currently occupying. When Axel stepped into view, the kid sat up abruptly, made a motion as though to get out of the chair, did a little tap dance with his feet, and finally stayed where he was.

Axel didn't even say anything, took out the cash from his pocket, and threw it on the table.

"Kiss me," he said.

"I don't kiss anyone twice," the kid said, moving a hand to slap the bill back across the table at him. He wasn't looking him in the eye anymore, was looking out into the booth across from his, something that had a giant mallet and moles. Axel sidled in front of him.

"I'm paying you."

"I'm not a whore."

Axel glared. The kid glared.

"What's your name?"

"Fuck you."

"Are you a smartass like this to everyone you meet?"

"Only to assholes."

The kid glared. Axel glared, and threw the bill back across the table.

"Your boss doesn't want the extra money?"

The kid snorted. "You're a pervert."

"I didn't say your pimp."

"Yea, whatever." The bill came back across the table.

"Why won't you take it? It's just a kiss."

"And it's just money. I have morals."

"Yea, because working at a kissing booth is really all morally superior to being a prostitute."

"I'm going to call security. You're harassing me."

"Just tell me your name," Axel snapped.

"Go fuck yourself."

Axel snatched up the bill, gave him the finger, and strutted away, clutching the printout in one hand, the money in the other hand. One of the costumed workers came ambling up to him, some big panda bear, tried to get a hug, and Axel pushed him backward, so hard that he stumbled into a mom holding a baby and pushing a stroller, and the panda went down for the count. He was glared at. The panda wanted a hug. Axel flipped him off and circled the park, came back to rest in front of the boy again.

"I'll pay you double."

"I'm calling security."

_"Come on._ What's your problem?"

"I don't like redheads."

Axel fumed, and left.

__

Trying to focus on the paper he was writing for the class he was supposed to be passing was proving more difficult than he had hoped for. He tried to dissect the poem, the syllable count, something he'd always been horrible at, since a word was a word was a fucking word, why did he have to count syllables? It was barbaric. Why name everything? The world was messed up.  
Maybe this poem didn't have any structure, he thought hopefully. Maybe he could just play it off.

Of course, he didn't think any of the ones he was reading had any sort of structure either, but he couldn't play all of them off that way.

He left the window open, looked down at the empty street, and took off the screen, then moved to sit on the ledge, the lip of the sill digging painfully into his skin. It was quiet though, and cold, and he took out the picture that he'd practically ripped into four parts by now, unfolded it and stared, thinking maybe the starlight would make it look differently.

But there was nothing. Just him, just the kid, the shoddy light, the slight blur around his own figure. The kid was in perfect clarity.

And there was the sand in his brain again, and the sunset, water somewhere. Maybe some black, but mostly the sunset, the yolky sky zigzagged and crossed and intersected by purple and black and white and blue and orange. All of that.

His stomach hurt. Probably a bug from the festival food. Nothing sleep wouldn't cure. The feverish feeling in his head would go away.

Another look down at his hands. He wanted to rip up the picture, because maybe that would make it stop, but he couldn't stop looking at it, and there was some sort of ache in his chest somewhere, and he didn't know why. Just that those eyes were closed in the picture, and when he closed his eyes, he could see sometimes, see something he saw in dreams.

__

"You like this place a lot, kiddo?"

The man with the scar was sort of glowering at him.

"Yea," Axel said brightly. "A lot. Halloween is my favorite."

"Well soak it up, I guess. Two more days, you know. Then we're closed."

Axel nodded, held out his arm for the wristband. He had three now, and they were using a different color for each day. So far he had red, orange, and yellow. Maybe tomorrow he'd get a green. Maybe even a pink. A kid could dream.

He was about to stalk off when the attendant stopped him by saying, "So, any booth you keep coming for in particular?"

This was annoying. "No, not really. I just love the… the air you know. The uh. Festivities."

The guy had this smile on his face, though it was a smirk more than a smile. "We get really popular in some circles, you know. We'll draw you in. We're simply irresistible, eh?"

Annoying didn't make the half of it. "Yea. Uh. Well that's cool and all. But I mean, you should put some better rides in here if you wanted to be, you know, _more_ irresistible."

"Oh yea?"

"Yea. The ones you have aren't scary. And you know, maybe get someone better in that kissing booth." "_Shut up, shut up, shut up._. "I mean come on, a dude?"

He hadn't been expecting the deep throated laugh that escaped from the man. "We hear that a lot. But uh, that Roxas you know, he's a special kid."

Axel snorted. "Right."

There was a superior, knowing look on his face now. "That why you keep coming back here?"

Axel didn't take the bait. "Yea, sure man. Of course."

"Whatever you say champ. You have fun now. Keep coming back, it's good for business."

That mysterious, creepy smile again, and Axel wanted to make a face at him, but instead just plastered on something fake, and turned away, resolving to skirt that guy the next came he came around.

Instead of immediately striking out to the left, he swayed over to the right, taking in the scenery. There was a jumping castle there, a big pumpkin where you crawled in through the mouth, next to a big wooden barrel, where you threw your mouth in and tried to bite apples. A facepainting place, a place to throw rings over skeleton hands, a picture place in a fake barnyard with hay and a cutout of a smiling cow. Axel regarded that solemnly, thought about steak, wandered away to where you could catch ducks with poles, make a green mold of your own hand, mix some baking powder and salt to make slime. Then there were the rides, the horribly not scary haunted house, the mirrors, the little train, spinning cups, a graveyard where smiling dead people held your hand and laughed.

Wrong wrong wrong.

He slipped past the booths on the left side after catching a glimpse of the kid sitting still at the table, walked around the back like he belonged, subtly keeping his wrist jammed in his pocket so nobody would be suspicious, and then stopped behind the kid's booth, peering through the heavy purple drapery to see him accepting a bill, and then laughing good naturedly while he kissed a beet red little girl on the cheek. The girl ran off, and he went back to being bored and leaning over the table.

There wasn't much planned out here.

He slipped in as quietly as he could through the gap in the curtains, and ended up tripping over a bucket used to prop up the pole holding up one corner, and went down, hard, landing on his stomach and rolling over immediately.

The kid was on his feet, peering down at him with an indistinguishable expression on his face.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Axel said, "Are you going to help me up?"

Maybe he didn't have time to think about it, or maybe he did and was trying to make amends, but the kid held out his hand and helped Axel up, where he started to dust himself off.

"What the hell are you doing? Are you trying to spy on me?"

"Well gee, that's wording it a little strongly isn't it?"

"Well what the fuck, that's putting it a little mildly isn't it?"

Axel sighed. "Okay, listen, I'm not a stalker, I'm not trying to kidnap you, I don't want to take you somewhere nice to eat or take you to a movie or try to assault you in my car, I just want to know your name." A beat. "For right now."

The kid looked up at him sizingly. "And you paid each day to get in and see me."

"No, just yesterday and today. The day before yesterday I didn't come to see you, I was here and I lost a bet."

"What bet?"

"Please don't make me go over the sordid details of how I can't hold my liquor."

"You look Irish."

"I must have gotten a bad gene somewhere."

The kid sighed. "Fine. My name's Roxas."

__

_In a dark alley, a dark corner, nobody would miss me, but that's not true, no, that's not true—_

___  
_

"Roxas." Axel said the word, bit his lip. "I'm Axel."

"You told me." Roxas went back to the chair, dragged it back a little from the table so he could put his feet up. "I'd offer you a chair, you know, but I don't have another one."

"It's fine. See? Was that so hard?"

"Oh I don't know," Roxas said breezily. "You seem so colossally interested in me, I should have charged you."

"I offered, don't say I didn't."

Roxas shrugged. "Is that all? You leaving now?"

Axel stepped forward, sat on the table facing him. "You get a lot of takers here?"

"You really are a pervert, aren't you?"

"I'm just asking man, come on, stop biting my head off. It's a fair question, I think. You don't expect guys at kissing booths."

"That's sexist."

"Humor me. You know it's true."

Roxas snuck a glance at him, and then continued gazing drolly across the pathway. "Yea, yea, whatever. And no, I don't. You get three categories for guys at kissing booths: the girls who pretend their friends dared them who need some action, the guys who are secretly gay—" and a swift glance up here "—and lose bets on purpose, and then the guys who really do lose bets. Gets kind of repetitive."

"You seem to do this a lot," Axel remarked, wondering what category Roxas put him in.

There was a bit of a strangled laugh. "Yea, I guess you could say that." Axel was about to say something when Roxas barreled on, "I can't really decide with you. It's either one or three."

Axel opened his mouth, thought for a second, and then chuckled. "Right. It's definitely number one."

"Yep. So that all you wanted to talk about? Or you leaving?"

"Why do you keep trying to get rid of me? I'm keeping you company, aren't I?"

"Oh yea. Definitely. You're positively delightful."

There was an awkward pause, and Axel said, "Okay, fine. I have a question."

Silence.

"If you're looking for the psychic, she's two rows over. A real peach. Name's Larxene. Tell her I sent you, she'll give you a real deal."

"Yea? I do kind of want to know the lottery numbers. Guess I could take a stab at her."

Another dark chuckle. "More like, she'll take a stab at you. But what? What do you want?"

"Okay, fine. You felt it too."

"That a question?"

"Yes."

Roxas didn't say anything, put his hands on his thighs and smoothed them across his jeans, sort of tipping back and forth on the chair, making it squeak and the grass rustle. Axel didn't say anything, put his hands on the table and tipped himself back, out from underneath the canopy of the booth, squinted at the sky. It was blue today, frigid. White, puffed clouds hung out in the distance, but it was October, and the sky was trying to make a statement.

"Don't know what I felt or didn't feel," Roxas finally said, though Axel was still having a heart to heart with the wind. "But it's nothing to talk about."

"Oh yea, nothing at all. Must have been static shock or something."

"Right. It happens."

"So let me kiss you again."

Roxas tipped the chair down, the creaky rounded legs hitting the grass and sliding forward.

"I don't want to kiss you again."

"Are you saying I'm a bad kisser?"

"Shut up Axel. Trust me."

"Come on. I'll pay. If you don't, I'll dye my hair and come back in disguise and pay you and then you'll have to kiss me because I'm a completely different person."

"You're not going to dye your hair."

"Nope, but I can get a wig. I know a guy."

"Who specializes in wigs."

"Who specializes in whatever the fuck I want, so let's just save the hassle, and kiss me."

"I knew you were a pervert."

Axel sighed, or he might have growled in impatience as he finally tipped his head forward and gripped the edge of the table, looking down hard the boy looking back up at him, with a look equally as fervent, though torn between amusement and annoyance as well.

"Listen, I'm not a pervert. I'm not obsessed with you. I don't want you to be my boyfriend or run away from home for me or take you out back and do dirty things to you. Just kiss me. Come on. You've done it before. Nothing new."

"Nothing new," Roxas said, sort of softly, and then raised his voice and continued, "You're going to have to trust me on this one, Axel. I'm not going to kiss you. Better off that way."

"I just want to see if it happens again."

"What happens again?"

"Stop being stupid. What happened last time."

The pictures, he wanted to say. The shock. The blue eyes, the dark alleyway, the chairs and the rooms of grey and the fire, smoky weapons, shadows the size of houses. They were in his dreams now, and the night was long, and those dreams ended with his eyes, and the picture Axel was clutching inside his pocket was tearing underneath the pressure at which his nails were digging into it.

Roxas was quiet, looking into the dusty day, like he wasn't even paying attention, and then he sighed. "Seriously Axel. Go home. I'm not going to kiss you again. This is crazy."

Axel got off the table, stretched his back a little. "I'll be back tomorrow."

"The answer's going to be the same."

"That's why I'm going to bring you a spiked drink."

There may have been a smile at his lips, but it was too fleeting to tell.

"Sure. Have fun with that."

Axel gave him a two fingered salute, and walked out from underneath the drapery.

__

For the first time in months he bought a pack of cigarettes, leaned out the window and blew smoke rings at the moon as he uncurled the paper, looked at the ink, looked at himself and the kid, and the blur that seemed to be increasing on himself, and the perfect clarity. Roxas's perfect clarity.

He chain smoked half the pack, and then went downstairs and threw the rest into the garbage. On the way back he took an aspirin, washed it down with a finger of whiskey he found in the bottle on top of the fridge that probably belonged to his roommate, but whatever, he could replace it.

He fell asleep feeling sick.

__

The bracelet he got was blue and—

__

_--it was mixed with seagreen, but no kelp, and there was millions of them everywhere, and he was on his back, and there was that same type of blue, wet, but blue, and he didn't have anything but he had--_

___  
_

--and he didn't bother cutting around the back, but went directly to where Roxas was sitting, as though waiting for him expectantly.

"This is our last day here," he said without preamble.

"Then you ought to get a move on if you want to have all this," Axel said with an air of superiority as he threw a few bills on the counter.

Roxas quirked an eye up at him. "Pervert."

"Listen, okay, just listen." He took out his cell phone, clicked a few buttons, put it down expectantly in front of Roxas. "Put your number in it."

Roxas, if possible, quirked that eyebrow higher. "No. No date."

"If you don't I'm going to force it out of you," Axel said, dropped a bottle of soda next to him.

"I don't drink soda."

"Just a sip."

"Don't I have to drink the whole thing for whatever you've put in it to take effect?"

"Don't know, don't care, drink it."

"Axel." Roxas pushed the phone, the money, and the soda back in his general direction. "Listen, okay, you listen right now to me for a second. I'm not going to kiss you. I don't know you. You can't buy it out of me. Today's the last day of this festival, and then I'm never going to see you again, and I don't want to. So just knock it off."

"So what are you doing tomorrow?"

"None of your business."

"Let me take you to dinner."

"You just violated my trust."

"I never had it in the first place. It's Halloween tomorrow. Just come out with me. I won't try to feel you up, or molest you, or do anything remotely dumb in your presence. I just want to kiss you."

"It's not going to happen," Roxas said steadily. "You don't know me."

"Yes, yes I do," Axel said. "You're Roxas. I'm Axel. You're my best friend."

Roxas cocked his head at him. "I don't even know you."

"I don't know you either. But I want to."

"That doesn't sound creepy at all."

"You've left me no choice."

Roxas threw himself backward as soon as the last word left Axel's mouth, but Axel had already moved forward and grabbed his head, pulled him forward, out of the chair, halfway across the table, up and up, his eyes wide and his mouth open, and Axel kissed him and—

__

_Maybe he didn't know the half of it, but did he really need to? Did he really need to know anything? This was—this wasn't what he--_

___  
_

Roxas was crushing his lips against his, and there were jeers in the background, but they were flooding out of Axel's ears, because all he could hear was the waves, dark and deep and steady and calling and silent—

__

_Sunsets and charcoal mornings and clock tower afternoons and hitting him in the back of the head and falling off, falling, falling, falling--_

___  
_

He felt more than saw Roxas's eyes squeezed shut, something wet past his cheek, slithering down and down and down—

__

_Fire, and slithering things and darkness and black and nothing but a lifetime—what was left of a lifetime, how did you measure a lifetime that wasn't ever a life, and there weren't any breaths, and there weren't any birthdays or markers, but that moonlight, and the starlight--_

___  
_

Roxas's hand were clutching at him, and Axel clutching him back, thought about sunshine and sunset and maybe he thought a little too hard about that, because maybe something was going past his cheek belonging to him, and there was more sun than—

__

_that one day, because in that hallway, there was no sun, but the memory of clock towers, and blue eyes and blue salt and maybe, maybe there was the memory of something like—_

___  
_

"Something like this," Axel breathed against Roxas's lips, and pulled back, but didn't open his eyes, feeling sick.

"You shouldn't have kissed me," Roxas breathed, and Axel felt him pull away, felt feverish, felt like he was about to fall.

"Why?" he said, dropping his hands from Roxas's shoulders to the table, ocean in his ears, an echo of a lifetime through a ring dropped somewhere a long, long time ago.

"Because you don't get it," Roxas said, and Axel couldn't even open his eyes now, it was dark, "you don't get it, it's the same like it was then, like it is now… Axel. Your… I need you. I need you, I need you, I need you."

He could barely breathe.

"Just like last time, Axel," Roxas choked. "You got it all wrong again."

There were footsteps on the grass now, and he was hitting something with a thud, but it was far away, but Roxas, .Roxas was still on his lips, in his head, and there was a lot of light, like there were fires.

"The price for you to kiss me, Axel," Roxas said, sounding like he was crying, like he was sad, heartbroken, confused, dismayed. "This is what I do. It's something I take from you, it's..."

Axel didn't think, tried to life a hand to reach out, but it goes into his pocket, where he clutched at—

__

_That picture, but if he could see that picture, there would be nothing, because he was a memory of a memory, he was lost, and he'd been waiting his life for this, but he was lost._


End file.
